So I know this is super short and it's been a while but I decided it was better to post little rather than nothing at all. My laptop actually broke and I'm operating on a borrowed one right now because I'm having a few financial issues. School is also in full swing and I have to go job hunting again soon. This has been a pain. Sorry for the inconvienence!

Liesel often said things that Max couldn't understand under her breath as she went about her day. She learned to say hello, goodbye, please, thank you, slowly building her vocabulary in English. The American soldier made himself scarce for the most part, only offering to sit on a stone wall a little ways in the country. It made him look bad, to consort with former Nazi sympathizers. Max found that a cowardly excuse, considering that he himself, a Jew by both blood and practice, stayed under their roof with little question. They were caught up in the fear of it all.

Fear: That which turns adults into sheep.

He wiped the grime from his brow as he walked back to Liesel. That was the thing about his life: He had no home; Herr Herrmann's monstrosity of a house certainly didn't suffice and his had long since been reduced to rubble, and his family was likely thrown in shallow graves. Instead, he had Liesel. He simply found her earlier than expected. She sat on the stone wall, next to the American boy again, as she struggled with a word as he wrote it on a slate board with a stub of chalk. Her brow was furrowed and he had a ghost of a smile on his face as she stumbled through the foreign language. Max stepped on a twig, alerting the pair of his arrival. They jumped from their own little world, a light blush tinging the American's cheeks.

"MAX!" Liesel leapt from her perch and barreled into him as enthusiastically as ever. He reveled in that embrace before she pulled away stiffly. Max's eyes landed on the American's as he cleared his throat.

"Hello herr—"

"Vandenburg. Max Vandenburg." Max kept his tone light. Liesel was used to his more dreary moods, but her poor teacher probably wasn't.

"Oh. I'm Simon Marshall." His German was good, heavily accented, but fairly flawless in grammar and expression. He must have learned it quite recently.

"Your German is very good."

"Thanks. I've only been learning these past couple uh years."

"His accent's atrocious though." Liesel announced freely, ruffling his hair, "But I've been trying to help him improve on that as well."

"Are you the one teaching Liesel English?" Max already knew, but for some reason he wanted some form of confirmation.

"Yes. She's very good at it. Words just come to her."

Max smiled fondly at Liesel, "I must be going now."

What Max didn't hear:

"Is that your sweetheart?"

"Nein—I mean no. He's family"

Max was in a rather foul mood for the rest of the day. He found his job wasn't particularly mentally stimulating. It allowed him too much time to think about things. He thought about his lost family. Some might still be alive, scattered among the world after running for their lives but his mother, his poor mother, was with God. That was a funny thing to think. He wondered if he even believed in God after this. He banished that blasphemous thought immediately. He had nothing if not his faith. His mother would have him flayed alive if she thought for a moment he could forsake it.

Mrs. Vanderburg's influence was strong even after I carried her away.

That night he was back in the camp again. The smell of burnt flesh filled his nose and for some reason the anguished cry of his mother tore through to him. He was running, but it didn't make sense, his mother wasn't there. He missed her dearly. He missed the entirety of his family and they were all there and screaming, but they weren't there. They couldn't be there. They were—. He woke with Liesel sitting beside him, her tiny hand clutched between both of his in a death grip. The poor lighting made her look like a creature of the night, a shade with yellowed hair wishing to take his soul far away from his bed in Herr Herrmann's house. Max let go and reached for her face as soon as the illusion was broken and pulled her close to him without any regard for dignity or propriety. She wrapped herself around his shaking form, her head lying right over his rapidly beating heart.

"Why are you here?"

"You were screaming."Liesel replied, gently rubbing circles into his chest with one hand and into the palm of his own hand with the other.

He loosened his grip on her, his arm only flung limply across her back, "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Max. I just don't know what to do."

"Just be you"

She wriggled closer to him, pressing herself even closer. Max in turn tugged the blankets over their bodies, feeling the warmth from Liesel calm him. "Just be you, Liesel."

I'll try to get to you sooner next time, however, I can't make any guarantees. Thank you for your support.